


If you're lost, just look for me

by whisperingwind



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: All that stuff, Angst, Appendicitis, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Protective!Louis, Sick Character, Sick Harry, he talks to lou on the phone, hope you enjoy it, i wrote this for an anon, niall and liam are actually helpful in one of my stories, zayn isn't physically there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingwind/pseuds/whisperingwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe the pain wouldn’t be so hard to withstand if it weren’t for his low tolerance.</p><p>Sure, he stubs his toe and tears up, and yeah, he might go to Louis for excessive cuddles after getting whacked in the head with a red bull can, but this is something entirely different.</p><p>He feels like he’s dying.</p><p>“Shh, shh, shh,” Louis whispers, trying to calm him down, and brushes his fingers through Harry’s hair. It’s slightly damp from the sweat rolling off his body, especially the sweat coating his face and neck. He doesn’t like seeing Harry cry, especially over things as petty as being a bit ill. </p><p>Though Louis is starting to realize that Harry is more than a bit ill. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.” It’s a command. He has to keep that overlay of sternness in his tone in order to get what he needs from Harry, otherwise he’ll never get a straight answer from the younger lad. “Deep breaths, come on. I need to know what’s going on and you’re the only one who can tell me.”</p><p>Or Harry contracts Appendicitis. Louis saves the day, again. </p><p>Title from "Walking in the Wind" by One Direction</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you're lost, just look for me

**Author's Note:**

> For you lovely anon.xx

Harry wakes with a dull ache around his navel. He glances over at Louis - Louis who looks so peaceful and gorgeous while he sleeps - and decides to brush it off. He can’t wake him up, not now, not when Louis is finally getting some decent sleep.

He isn’t _too_ worried about it anyway. He has a poor immune system, always has, so it isn’t like he's not used to feeling sick to his stomach this early in the morning.

Because, of course, he received the worst one of his mum’s genes, but then again he supposes he can’t have it all. He can’t be healthy on top of handsome, wealthy, talented, engaged, and most importantly happy. He’s lucky in all those aspects and so he chooses not to complain.

He's fine the rest of the morning, the aches only increase in intensity when he moves too quickly or the wrong way. He's used to it. 

But it doesn't stop Louis' questioning stares, then again nothing ever does.

His stomach doesn’t actually begin to bother him until a few hours before the show starts. They four of them are in the middle of rehearsals when he turns too quickly and conclusively feels like he’s just ripped his stomach in two.

He did throw up earlier, twice or maybe three times - he hadn't been paying attention because of the regularity of the situation.

Unfortunately, he contracts viruses and flus rather easily, but what he feels now is something entirely different. 

He doubles over, trying his hardest to swallow the bile rising in his throat, but it isn’t working.

Louis wastes no time in rushing over to him at the first sign of trouble. “Hey,” he whispers, resting his hand on the small of Harry’s back. “Harry, what’s going on? Are you poorly?”

“Not feeling very - “ he cuts himself off with deep breath, mentally telling himself not to throw up, preferably not on Louis. Anybody or anything, but Louis. “- well. I need to go lay down."

“Alright love, it's okay, do you want me to come with?”

 

“No, it’s fine,” he promises. “I’ll be better in a while. I didn’t sleep well last night. I need sleep.”

Louis stares at him in confusion, “Uh - okay, yeah, I guess.”

Harry wastes no time getting to his dressing room and laying down on the futon.

About an hour passes before Louis decides to check on him. He opens the door leading into Harry’s dressing room and laughs when he sees Harry sprawled out across the couch.

“Harry. Come on now, love. Time to get up.” He treads over to him and kneels down beside the couch. He goes to brush Harry’s hair off of his forehead, but his hand freezes mid-air when he feels the heat radiating off his skin. “Fuck. You’re burning up.” He presses the back of his hand to Harry’s face.

Not only is he fevered and flushed, but his skin is clammy as well. “You definitely have a fever. We need to break it. Let me go get you some ice water.” He begins to stand, but Harry, blindly wrapping his palm around his wrist, stops him.

He mumbles weakly, tugging Louis slightly closer. “Don’t.”

“Harry. You’re sick. You need to stay hydrated or next thing you know, you’ll be in the hospital with a bunch of needles prodding you.”

And the thing is, Louis knows Harry’s on the path of dehydration. For Christ’s sake, his lips are chapped from lack of moisture and his swallows are thick.

“Can’t.”

Louis eyes him before he gives in and lowers himself back to the ground, putting all of his weight on his knees. “Can’t what darling?” With nimble fingers, he caresses Harry’s cheek. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

Harry catches Louis’ eyes. “Can’t keep stuff down.”

“Wait…you’ve been throwing up? How often are you throwing up? Harry, come on, you know better than not telling me. When did you start feeling this ill?”

“Like…few times - nothing left.” His eyes are glazed over - not with tears, but with disorientation. He tries to move, only to cry out with a sharp “shit!” before freezing where he lay, again.

He knows better. He’s been laying like this for a while now - he doesn’t know when he first laid down, but he knows it’s been at least half an hour, if not closer to an hour. His condition has definitely digressed since.

Louis’ tone picks up in concern, his hands hesitate above him. He wants to help Harry, his love, his everything, but he doesn’t want to hurt him anymore. “Harry? What’s wrong? Angel. Harry. Haz. What’s going on?”

Harry’s in tears then, whimpering, _sobbing_ as Louis stares at him in shock. Louis withdraws back, his mouth stupidly falling agape, there’s nothing he could possibly say to calm Harry down, who’s blatantly in high distress.

Harry can’t help it. He’s in excruciating pain and he can’t verbally manage to tell Louis. He’s fucked. It had only a faint stomach ache earlier and when he lies still too, but now whenever he moves it’s like someone’s stabbed him in the abdomen with a bloody machete.

It had only hurt a little, like a swift kick in the stomach that fades in time, but now it’s a very prominent pain.

He doesn’t understand where it appeared from. He was fine last night. Hell, he was even alright early this morning.

And maybe the pain wouldn’t be so hard to withstand if it weren’t for his low tolerance.

Sure, he stubs his toe and tears up, and yeah, he might go to Louis for excessive cuddles after getting whacked in the head with a red bull can, but this is something entirely different.

He feels like he’s dying.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Louis whispers trying to calm him down, and brushes his fingers through Harry’s hair. It’s slightly damp from the sweat rolling off his body, especially the sweat coating his face and neck. He doesn’t like seeing Harry cry, especially over things as petty as being a bit ill. 

Though Louis is starting to realize that Harry is more than a bit ill. “You have to tell me what’s wrong,” It’s a command. He has to keep that overlay of sternness in his tone in order to get what he needs from Harry, otherwise he’ll never get a straight answer from the younger lad. “Deep breaths, come on. I need to know what’s going on and you’re the only one who can tell me.”

At first, Harry tries to tell him that his stomach hurts - scratch that, his stomach feels like it’s been fucking maimed - but the words don’t easily come to him, not past the built up lump of emotion and pain gathered in the back of his throat, and anyways saying his “tummy hurts” as a twenty one year old might be a bit uncalled for, even considering the situation.

Louis pleads. “Harry, babe. Please. Tell me what’s wrong. It’s okay. I can help you.”

Harry hates to hear Louis sound weary with so much concern and fear. He doesn’t mean to make him feel that way, but there’s nothing he can do to calm him down. He can hardly utter out a word without crying, let alone calm himself down.

He guides Louis’s hand to his stomach and Louis stares at him in confusion. “I don’t understand. Babe, I don’t - ”

Harry manages to squeak out, in the tiniest, weakest whisper, “Hurts.”

His heartbeat is thumping in his ears and a spiral of black and white vacates his vision, that is until he manages to blink it away, only after several tries.

He’s had stomach aches before, Louis has _witnessed_ him have stomach aches before, but not like this - not to this intensity. They’re common, they are, due to Harry’s immune system being as weak as it is, but Harry has never ever sobbed in reaction to stomach pain.

He usually lays down, takes a few Rolaids, and sleeps it off, which Louis assumed happened earlier.

Silly him, he expected to find his fiancé sound asleep, not withering in pain.

This is more than the stomach flu or cramps.

Louis unbuttons Harry’s blouse, using his lithe fingers to pluck the buttons open, one by one, until his tattoos are completely bare.

 

Immediately, Louis notices the swelling of Harry’s abdomen. Harry’s always had love handles, which are undeniably cute, but his stomach has always been toned, but right now his entire lower abdomen is bloated.

“Fuck.” He completely freezes. He isn’t sure what this means, but he knows it isn’t a good thing, not even by chance. He meets Harry’s eyes and they keep eye contact. Harry looks petrified and Louis knows can’t feed into it and make everything worse. If lying makes things better, than so be it. “Everything’s fine love.” Louis encourages. “It’s going to be alright, I promise.”

Liam and Niall, for once in their lives, are the saving grace of a situation. They pile in through the door and as soon as they walk in, feeling the odd atmosphere, Niall blurts out. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t -” Louis shakes his head, continues to stare at Harry, and draws in a sharp breath. He lowers his voice. “I don’t know. He - his stomach. Liam. this isn’t normal. His stomach’s swollen.”

Niall laughs out of panic and shock. “Swollen? How can a stomach swell? He's not fucking pregnant is he?”

Harry tries to sit up with those words, only to cry out once more, and slowly lays back down.

Liam shares a look of confusion with Niall. He walks over to where Louis stands and he too notices the swelling. “Shit Louis. That’s not good.” His voice is loud, loud enough to startle Harry, and seeing the look of uncertainty on his face, Louis gestures for Liam to quiet down. “Sorry, sorry. Have you pressed down on his stomach?”

“No, why would I -”

Niall interrupts him. “Could be his appendix. Deo had appendicitis when we were younger. He had the exact same symptoms Harry has.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What side do I press down on?”

“It’s ah - well, let’s see,” Niall backtracks for a second. He presses on his own stomach for a few moments as if mapping out his internal organs. “Lower right.”

Louis sighs, but tells Harry what he's going to do anyways. “I’m going to push down on your stomach. I’m sorry if it hurts love, I need to be sure,” Louis looks between Liam and Niall for reassurance and doesn’t actually prod his fiancé’s stomach until he sees them nod. As tenderly as he can he pushes his fingers into Harry’s flesh and almost as soon as fingers come in contact does Harry scream bloody murder.

Louis recoils his hand, “Shh, shh, shh, I am so sorry, Harry. I won’t do that again, I promise.” He turns to the boys. “One of you call for a medic.”

“What about manage-”

“I don’t care! Tell them to fuck off. We need medics here now.” Instantly, Niall dashes off, disappearing from the room quicker than Louis can snap his fingers.

Harry’s crying again, in the crevice of his elbow, now he’s curled in on himself. One of his arms drapes around his abdomen and his breathing is oddly loud and ragged.

His body trembles. Louis rubs his hand over his leg. “Babe, sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, it’s going to be alright. I think you have appendicitis, but I might be wrong. Everything’s going to be alright, even if I am right. I promise you that. I’m right here. The entire time. As long as you need me, okay?”

“It - “ His voice dissipates as soon as he tries to speak. He’s hyperventilating. “It h-hurts, Louis. Hurts so - so much.”

Louis squeezes his thigh. “Hush, I know angel. We’re going to get that nasty appendix out of you and you’ll be as good as new. We’ll be back home before you know it. You’re doing great.”

A squeal pushes past Harry’s lips. “Wh-what about - “ He can hardly get hold of himself. “Show. The show. What’s going to - fuck - happen?”

Louis looks to Liam, begging, pleading for assurance. Liam speaks up. “Don’t worry about it H. We’ll reschedule. The fans will understand. Let’s focus on one thing at a time. Right now let’s worry about getting you feeling better.”

Louis nods. If it weren’t for the three of them, Harry would have pushed himself to perform, and who knows what would have transpired from that. “That’s right. Your health is our main concern,” He briefly pauses. “Liam, will you call Anne? Explain to her that Harry’s ill and ask her to meet us at the hospital - I think we’re going to St. Thomas’.”

Liam pulls his phone from his pocket. “Of course, of course.” He disappears out the door, much like Niall did minutes prior.

Harry finally pulls his face away from his arm and he shakes his head at Louis. His cheeks are stained with tear tracks. “Louis no.”

“Louis yes.” Louis reinforces. “Harry, your mum needs to know that you’re sick and you’re being hospitalized.”

“It’s not - not that important. She's going to f-freak out."

“I classify this as an emergency. Now, hush up. Relax.”

Harry huffs, muttering a string of curses under his breath, and it’s no surprise to Louis, not really. Harry will always be the most stubborn person he has ever met, but shit, does he love that characteristic about him.

Minutes later, Niall pops back through the door with their medical staff. They have medical personnel and ambulances at their venues, always, there’s no telling what kind of accidents or emergencies may happen.

Somehow this is the only serious incident that’s happened, though Niall’s knee injury a while back was rather worrisome too.

Louis mumbles. “Took you long enough.”

Niall begins to argue, but catches himself. Louis’ on high alert and he’ll hold a grudge over any small disagreement that may happen within the next day for a long time - otherwise known as something Niall doesn’t want held over his head. “My bad. Sorry.”

James, the head medic, steps between the two of them. “Niall said something about Harry’s stomach. What’s going on?”

“We think it might be his appendix.” Louis corrects.

“Right lad,” He moves closer to Louis and Harry, wasting no time at all, and he presses his hand down on Harry’s abdomen, thus causing the same pained yelling to leave his mouth. ”Right you are. Appendicitis.”

“What the fuck? Take it easy would you? He’s in enough pain and he doesn’t need you fucking manhandling him.”

Even through his discomfort and tears does Harry still manage to scold him. “Give it a rest. _Please_. For me?”

"Of course, I'm sorry sweetheart." Louis settles down instantly and stands himself up. “What’s the story then? You’ll take him to the hospital, put him on some antibiotics?”

“No. He’s definitely be having surgery once he arrives at the hospital, so be prepared to fill out paperwork. At this point we’re hoping the appendix hasn’t ruptured, otherwise things will get a whole lot more severe.”

“What does that mean?”

“Life-threatening circumstances.”

Niall whirls around to face Louis and Louis feels sick to his stomach. “Pardon?”

James turns to the other two medics in the room. “I need a morphine sulfate I.V before we can even think about moving the patient.”

With those words, the other two medics begin to dig through their duffel bags and other variety of supplies.

One of them pauses in her actions. “Am I preparing an oxygen tank for the patient?”

Louis wants to correct them. _Harry. His name is Harry._

“No oxygen at this time, but keep it on standby in case.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows as he watches the paramedics shuffle through all their supplies. He glances towards Louis, shares a quick disbelieving exchange, as if asking if this is seriously happening.

Louis snaps. “Excuse me.”

James rolls his eyes, but answers. “Yes?”

“Life-threatening circumstances? It’s his fucking appendix, not his heart.”

“If his appendix bursts than toxins will be released in his body, possibly his blood stream, leading to an infection.”

Louis sighs, not precisely liking his attitude, but not having the energy to argue. “Carry on then.” He treads over to stand by Harry, but out of the medics’ way. Reaching down and over, he cards his fingers through Harry’s curls and encouragingly whispers to him, “It’ll be alright. Ignore what the medics are saying, yeah? You’re going to be just fine babes. It's not as bad as they're making it seem.”

Almost as soon as Louis says this, he sees the female medic - Elizabeth, maybe - walk over with a needle.

Harry doesn’t see it, which is good, great even, but he sure does feel it when she jabs it into his arm.

His eyes widen and shift to focus on Louis. “Easy, Harry. She’s only helping you.”

It's nearly as soon as he's injected that he calms down. The change is extremely noticeable. All of his muscles relax and his breath evens out.

Louis smiles. "There we good, yeah? Some of the good stuff for you, love. Feeling better now?"

Harry tucks his chin to his chest and a low hum falls from his lips. Louis ruffles his curls one last time before stepping back.

"Unless he's able to move by himself, we're going to have to forcibly move him onto a gurney."

Louis knows Harry won't like that and he's sure he has a bit of strength left in his legs. "Oh, um - I'll help him. The gurney's right outside the door, yeah?"

"Yes."

"I can help him out there," he slips around the couch and takes one of Harry's hands in his. "Come on babes, I'm going to help you get up. I'll give you a tug and you just have to put pressure on your legs."

And he does. He pulls Harry forward and it takes Harry a few tries but he manages to get himself completely upright. Though, his knees do knock together and he does stumble, but Louis holds him up with an arm draped around his waist.

Harry weakly wraps his arm around Louis's shoulders and leans all of his weight against him.

Louis guides him forward, pacing himself accordingly, but he pauses every few steps because his grip loosens on Harry. Finally, Niall steps in and takes Harry's other side, having him wrap his left arm around his shoulders.

"There we go pet," Niall whispers. "It'll be alright, just stick with us, and you'll feel a whole hell of a lot better."

Louis forces a weak smile as he continues to carry along. Harry's rather heavy, his broad shoulders weigh him down, and he's as good as dead weight in this position because he's numb from the injection.

The medics move out of their way and the lone female holds open the door for them.

Liam's still outside the room, leaning against the wall, and speaking into the phone, using only a calm tone.

He's still on the phone with Anne.

Glancing up when he hears the commotion, he bids Anne goodbye and hangs up, rushing forward in order to help Louis and Niall. "What are you doing?"

"We're getting him on the gurney. It's his appendix. They're hospitalizing him."

The paramedics flood outside the small green room and James moves forward, but Louis wards him off. "Don't touch him. I've got him."

The gurney is lower to the ground than it would normally be because they need to get Harry on it. "Alright angel, just sit down," Louis instructs and helps him. "There we go, perfect, you're doing so good," he whispers and next he presses his hand to Harry's chest, gently guiding him to lay back on the matted surface. "I'll be right there with you."

James tells him differently. "I can't allow for you to ride along in the ambulance. It'll be too crowded and if he were to crash we need space to move."

"I can't ride along with him?"

"I'm afraid not, but as soon as you get to the hospital you can be with them as they prep him for surgery."

Harry glances towards Louis and swallows. "It's okay Lou. I'll see you at the hospital. I love you."

Somehow Harry is handling this much better than Louis is. 

"I love you too Harry." Louis leans over and kisses his forehead. "I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can, okay? I promise to be there before they take you into surgery."

Harry nods. "Of course. I know you will Louis."

James doesn't hesitate any longer. He takes the gurney and guides it right down the corridor before Louis manages to say one last goodbye.

"Oh god," Louis whispers as soon as they've disappeared, rubbing his temples, "Fuck - I need to drive to the hospital. Shit, how does shit like this happen?" He hasn't allotted himself to lose control of his emotions, aside from a bit of anger and denial, but he can feel it building in his mind, tearing at his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

Niall rests his hand on Louis' shoulder, rubs his arm, "I'll drive you. You're in no state of mind to drive. Let's go."

Liam sacrifices himself. "I'll stay. Talk to management and all that. I'll meet you up at the hospital. Anne's on her way as well."

"Thank you guys." Louis whispers. "I didn't know he was this sick. He was fine this morning, maybe a bit pasty, but I didn't know his appendix was going to fucking burst."

"Shh, it's alright. How were you supposed to know? Come along." Niall shifts his hand to rest on Louis' back and he gives him a small push forward. As they walk down the corridor - the end in opposition to where the medics rushed off - Niall whispers words of encouragement to Louis, "He's going to be just fine, y'know? The surgery is common and they'll fix him right up, it's no big deal. He'll be in and out of there in no time."

"How did I not know Niall? He was so ill. How did I not see that earlier?" Louis whispers. "He was sobbing from how much pain he was in - how did I not know?"

"Louis. you shouldn't beat yourself up over it. He's stubborn, doesn't like to make you worry about him, it's no one's fault, really."

They get outside and Niall walks Louis over to his car.

He slips into the passenger seat and Niall, the driver's seat. Before Niall even starts the car, he plugs in the hospital's name, and waits for the GPS to display directions.

Neither of them say a word. It's not exactly a long drive and there isn't much to say. It takes them five minutes, at most, to arrive at the Accident and Emergency entrance of St Thomas’.

Niall parks the car. He doesn’t even get a chance to turn it off, because Louis' out of the car and running to the front entrance doors.

He goes to the front desk, slamming his hands down on the half wall, and belligerently asks for Harry Styles in a frazzled tone of voice.

"He's my - uh, listen, can you tell me where he is? They brought him in like minutes ago by ambulance - I, um, appendicitis. They're taking him in for surgery. Where is he?"

Louis runs his hands through his hair and the receptionist quickly types in the information she’s been given from the distraught young man in front of her. “Harry Styles is in room 265 but -”

He doesn’t allow for her to finish, shouting a quick “thank you!”, and runs to the nearest elevator.

Once inside he reminds himself that it’s the “second floor, second floor, second floor.” and presses the appropriate button. He’s forgotten entirely about Niall at this point.

The elevator doors screech open and this time, he allows for himself to approach Harry’s room number in a more appropriate fashion. He catches his breath and straightens his posture before he yanks open the door and steps inside the sterile room.

There’s a doctor that whirls around and gives him a rather intense stare-down. “And just who are you?”

Louis pushes past him to get to Harry and he caresses just about every inch of his face. “There you are. How are you? Are you alright baby? Do you feel any better? I’m sorry I couldn’t be in the ambulance with you.”

“Hush, silly. I’m fine. Kind of nervous though.” he admits.

They have him dressed in a lilac shaded gown and a pair of beige slippers and his hair is tied back in a misshapen bun.

“You’ll be alright. It’s a quick procedure and I’ll be right there when you wake up. You’re mum too. She’s on her way.”

Harry nods. “Good, good. She alright?”

“I haven’t spoken to her.”

“Oh…” Harry sighs. “And you? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just having a hard time believing that you’re having surgery when you were fine a few hours ago.”

”If I may?” the doctor interrupts. “Appendicitis develops quickly, usually within a twenty-four hour to seventy-two hour time frame. Though, sometimes the symptoms are abnormal or hard to acknowledge, such as an loss of appetite.”

“You didn’t eat dinner last night, did you?”

“No, I wasn’t…” His voice weakens. “I wasn’t hungry.”

“There you have it. It’s been developing for at least twenty-four hours.” The doctor glances down at his watch. “I’m going to proceed with taking him down to the OR. So if you would, please say your goodbyes, quickly.”

“I’ll be right there when you wake up, angel,”: Louis kisses his forehead. “I promise.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Take care of him. He’s one of a kind.”

The doctor nods, then proceeds to lead the rolling bed out of the prep room, leaving Louis all by himself.

He sighs and finds his way back to the lobby, where he also finds Niall, sitting in a chair, typing something out on his phone.

Louis slips into the chair beside him. “Hey.”

Niall glances up. “Oh, hey,” he sets his phone down. “The show is officially cancelled. Liam says the stadium nearly went up in flames.”

“Rightfully so,” Louis says. “I’d be pissed if I got screwed out of a concert too.”

“It’s no problem. We’ll reschedule. How’s H?”

“Nervous, but I know he’ll be alright. He always is. How long do you reckon he’ll have to take off?”

“A week, maybe two, you don’t want him ripping them stitches, you know how fucking crazy he gets on stage.”

“He _is_ crazy. Try living with him. He’s always shouting.”

Niall laughs. “True that.”

A silence falls between the two of them, until Niall breaks it.

“It’s crazy how fast things change, y’know?”

“Yeah. I know. I sure didn’t think I’d be sitting in a hospital lobby earlier today.”

“Nobody did.”

Louis glances around. “Yet, here we are.”

Liam comes first, takes a seat on Louis’ other side, and stays silent for a bit. Finally he speaks, his voice trembles, “How is he?”

Louis places his hand on his thigh, squeezes, and assures, “He’s okay Liam. Don’t worry.”

The thing with Liam is Harry’s always been his favorite - sure, he gets on better with Niall and Louis and even Zayn when he was still in the band, because they’re not strange in the way that Harry is - but Harry has always sparked something inside of him.

He’s definitely sparked that older brother feeling. Liam is protective of him, they all are - Louis more than anyone - but not for the reason that he’s the youngest.

Harry’s odd and a bit slow, not exactly as understanding or knowledgeable as the others, confused and insecure, not always grasping the idea of inner beauty or strength.

They have to be protective of him or people will take advantage of him.

“That was awful, Louis. Bloody terrible. I kept it together for him, for you, but Christ, he was in so much pain. For fuck’s sake why is he always the one that has to deal with bullshit like this?”

“I don’t know Liam.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know Liam.”

“ _Jesus_.” Liam sighs, wipes his eyes not once, not twice, but three times which tells Louis that he’s teary-eyed, crying, or somewhere in between.

Anne comes next, with Gemma quickly filing in behind her. She immediately shrugs her coat off, hands it to Gemma, and hugs each one of her boys - hugging Louis for a bit longer than the other two.

“How is he? Is he okay?”

Louis sighs. “A nurse hasn’t come around with updates yet, but he’s alright, I know he is. I can feel it.”

Silence falls between them, again.

Anne nods, forces a smile, and nervously picks at her stray flyaway hairs. “I don’t see a point in standing around and worrying. I think I’ll go get some coffee. Would anyone else like anything?”

Niall stands. “I’ll come with you.”

Liam follows. “Me too.”

The three of them walk down to the cafeteria, leaving Louis and Gemma to their own. She settles into the seat beside him, crossing one ankle over the other. “Jesus Louis. What happened?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. He was fine.”

“He always is, isn’t he? Stubborn little tit.”

Louis breathes out a laugh. “I don’t know Gem. I went to go check on him before dinner and whatnot. He was running a fever and crying. His stomach was swollen and -”

“Swollen?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s odd. It’s probably from the internal inflammation.”

Louis nods, even though he doesn't know what that means. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence. “Zayn called me, you know?”

“Sorry. Come again?”

“Zayn. He called me.”

Louis scoffs, glares off to the side, “And just what the fuck did he want?”

“He heard about Harry - said the entire story was on breaking news.”

“Already?”

Gemma smirks.”You’re surprised?”

“Not really, no, but what did he want?”

“Dunno. Told me to tell you to give him a ring.”

“Well you tell him he can go fuck himself.”

Gemma laughs. “Fair enough. I told him not to expect a call back anyway.”

Louis doesn’t say another word. In fact, the two of them sit there in silence, dead silence, until Louis can’t take it anymore. He withdraws his phone from his pocket, sees a text message from Zayn, _give me a ring. as soon as possible_ , and gives in.

He unlocks his phone and goes to his contact.

Gemma slouches in pleasure, pulling her own phone out, and pretends not to listen in on their conversation.

Zayn answers after the second ring. “‘ello?”

Louis hisses his name. “Zayn.”

“Louis, hey, how’s it going bro?” He sounds happy to hear from him.

Louis sounds opposite. “Enough of this fucking small talk. We're not friends. What do you want?”

“I’m checking in on Harry. I saw that you guys cancelled the gig tonight on his behalf. Is he alright?”

Louis sighs. “He’s still in surgery. He has appendicitis.”

“Oh, well, uh, at least it’s not too serious, yeah?”

“It’s quite serious actually. He was extremely ill earlier.”

“But he’s okay now right?”

“I mean - yeah, I guess. Is that all you wanted to know? I have to go.”

Zayn huffs on the other side of the phone. “He’s one of my best mates. You don't have to be such a dick. I deserve -”

“ _Was_ Zayn. He _was_ one of your best mates. He hasn’t been your mate since you left and never looked back. He took it the hardest out of the four of us. He doesn’t want to see you.”

“I’ve heard differently.”

Louis bitterly laughs. “I’m sure you have. I’ve got to go now. There’s a nurse coming out. I’ll tell him you asked about him. Good riddance Za -.”

“I’ll be at the hospital tomorrow. See you then. Louis.” And he hangs up before Louis even gets a chance to argue.

Louis shoves his phone back down into his pocket and lets out a scream like groan.

For such a brief and awkward conversation, it really bothers him.

Gemma glances over at him and sighs. “You couldn’t have been a tiny bit nicer?”

He doesn’t hesitate at all. “No.”

Anne, Niall, and Liam eventually make it back and just in time too. A doctor, the same doctor as earlier, comes out and over to them.

Louis brings himself to stand.

“Family of Harry Styles, correct?” The doctor guesses.

Anne confirms. “Yes.”

“Great,”: He smiles. “I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Styles is in recovery now. His condition is stable. We were able to remove the appendix before it ruptured. If you would have waited another hour the appendix would have definitely ruptured, we were able to catch it just in time. We’re going to keep him tonight and tomorrow night for observation and then he’s all yours to take home.”

“Brilliant. Thank you so much.”

“Now, if you would follow me, I’ll take you to him.”

“Liam and I will wait here. Go on.” Niall gestures for them to go with a wave of his hand.

Anne, Gemma, and Louis all follow the doctor down a long corridor and then two shorter hallways until he stops in front of a closed door.

“I’ll allow for you all to go in, but please keep your voices at a reasonable level and don’t crowd him as he is still under anesthetics.” He dismisses himself and the three of them quietly shift into the room.

Harry’s awake - or well, half asleep, rather - with his hooded eyelids and parted lips. At the sound of footsteps, he lifts his head up slightly and weakly grins.

The TV is on in the background, some reality TV show plays, and the faint sounds of women screaming is the only other noise that fill Louis’ ears aside from Harry’s ragged and deep breathing.

“Hey gorgeous.” Louis is the first to speak, but the last to approach Harry. Anne and Gemma stand by his side, watching him, but not saying anything. “How are you?” He kisses the top of Harry’s head.

“‘m tired boo.”

“I bet you are. It’s been a long day. You can sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning. Do you want to sleep?” He touches Harry’s cheek with his palm and Harry nuzzles his face against the loving gesture. Louis smiles.

“Yeah...”

“Then go to sleep. No one’s stopping you.”

“Lou?”

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Harry doesn't have to say anymore because Louis already knows.

“Of course. I’ll be right here, okay?”

Harry nods and it’s not minutes later that he drifts off into a deep sleep. 

Anne looks up at Louis. “Thank you for taking care of him. Someone needs to take care of my baby when he’s not home and I'm glad that person's you.”

“I’ll always take care of him Anne. Unfortunately for him, he’s stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Louis smiles fondly at Harry, brushing a loose curl from his forehead, “It would never be any other way. Harry and I are forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> here's another short fic that i've written when i should be writing my long fic i've been working on for like 2 months now and another prompt lmao. anyways i hope you guys enjoy this fic let me know how you feel about it i threw it together today so we'll see. feel free to send me prompts or messages on my tumblr (or even if you want to see me trash blog about 1d hmu): troubleistheonlywaydown.tumblr.com  
> have a great day/night as always. cheers! emily.xx
> 
> feel free to give me a follow on twitter @terrestrialhaz (we can be super cool mutuals!)


End file.
